Sweeny Todd
by Broken-Rose-Thornesxoxo
Summary: Crossover between CM and Perception, because I think Daniel and Reid would be best friends. Daniel/Kate, and Reid/OC, because romance is all I'm good for. Daniel and the BAU have teamed up to catch the serial killer known as Sweeny Todd, who has been running rampant through out the US for years. T for violence and gore.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: New story, I know, I already have way too many but I don't care. XD I wrote this because 1) I think Daniel and Reid would be best friends 2) There's one scene I _really_ want to write and 3) There's only ONE (well okay, now two) Perception crossover and it's _not_ with Criminal Minds. So now there's another one. I hope you enjoy it! **

**Please leave a contribution in the little box at the bottom of the page that says review. Would LOVE reviews. **

**BRTxoxo **

* * *

"Hi baby." Katrina crouched down upon entering the dark apartment and crooned to the cat that rubbed against her lag. His bright green eyes glinted in the moon light, and the shadows played havoc on her senses as they fluttered across the tabby's back. "Oh yeah?" she scratched under his chin as he purred loudly. Katrina grinned and stood up, flicking on the light in the hall of the apartment she shared with her sister and shrugged her trench coat off along with her beret, hanging them on the hook beside the door.

She wandered into the kitchen to get something to eat, humming to herself and pulling the chopsticks out of her brown hair, letting the longs locks fall to her tailbone. She sniffed a container of take out Chinese food to check it as she shut the refrigerator door.

She stopped humming. She sniffed the food again.

There was something wrong here. That smell. It didn't belong. Katrina set the container on the counter top and sniffed again. What was that smell? It smelled like wet dog and… pennies.

Wet dog and pennies? She didn't own a dog. Well, not really.

The apartment suddenly became eerily quiet. She slowly made her way into the living room, sniffing the air. The smell was stronger here, but not the source. The cat ran behind the couch.

She stepped on glass. The light flicked on and she gasped violently as she saw the mess. Like a tornado had ripped through the living room. The couch was in disarray, the coffee table broken, glass figurines and glass cups broken with blood, the window at the end of the room was shattered.

"Hello?" she walked towards the bedrooms and bathroom slowly, tremors gently starting to shudder through her small form. The scent was becoming stronger, and as she turned on the hall light and saw more blood tracked through the hallway. "Oh my gosh." She fell to her knees, overcome with shivers and shudders. "Taryn?" Katrina called out, her voice wavering and cracking. "Taryn?" her throat constricted.

With no answer, the woman with long brown hair and pale hazel eyes pulled out the cell phone from her back pocket and dialed 9-1-1, her fingers slipping across the numbers.

"Nine one one, what is your emergency?"

Katrina could hear phones ringing in the background, other dispatchers talking to other people. "My name is Katrina Powers. I need to report a break in." she swallowed back the tears that were threatening to spill and crack her already fractured composure. "There's blood… everywhere. And… and it smells like… oh gosh it smells like there's so much…"

"Okay ma'am I need you to stay calm, and tell me your address."

She recited her address as she got to her feet and turned the corner to the master bedroom. The door was slightly open, the smell of blood stronger than ever wafting from the room. The bedside lamp was on, the soft glow of its light illuminating the edge of the door.

Gently Katrina Powers pushed the door open, her breathing shallow.

"Ma'am?" the dispatcher one the phone waited expectantly for her to reply.

Her response was a scream from Katrina, right before she began to sob out her sister's name.

"Ma'am I need you to stay calm!"

Katrina had dropped her phone at the sight of her naked, bloody and dead sister. "Taryn!"

The door to the bathroom edged open silently, until the hinges creaked.

Her ears twitched and she spun around to face the man that was still in her house. "No…" she nearly begged as he came closer to her. "No. No! Please!"

"Ma'am!"

Katrina screamed through her tears. "Help! Help me!"

. . .

Within the next ten minutes the apartment was roped off and the entire building was out to see what was going on and why so many sirens had interrupted their dinner.

Police officers and SWAT entered the apartment, breaking down the locked door, clearing the rooms before entering them.

"Clear!"

The lights were still on, everything left as it was when Katrina had been taken.

"Captain!" a young officer, M. Brandt, came running from the master bedroom where he had been with a SWAT member, clearing the room. "Sir you're going to want to see this." He led the captain into the room. The bed was drenched in blood, there was a message written on the mirror in lipstick, the room was turned upside down, a cat peaked his head and wide eyes out from under the bed.

But that wasn't what made the officers blanch and become utterly speechless.

. . .

Doctor Daniel Pierce concluded his last lecture of the day with an impossible assignment. He didn't speak to Lewicki as he followed him to his office, clutching his brown satchel to his chest , his scarf and thick grey wool jacket wrapped tightly around his tall and lithe frame. His black head phones were strapped across his messy mottled hair, pounding The Titan Symphony by Gustav Mahler through his head.

His head was pounding, and Natalie was of no help at all. Completely uncharacteristically for Daniel, he yanked the shades down over the window, blocking out most of the streaming sunlight, and after pulling off his jacket and scarf, and laid face down on the couch, head phones still pumping music through his mind. The professor could hear Lewicki saying something about him needing to eat or even drink some tea. He just waved a hand at him almost angrily.

His head hurt too much to want to do anything. Natalie was nagging at him to listen to Max Lewicki. Lewicki was nagging at him, saying something about trying to help him like he hired him to. And Kate Moretti was gently shaking his shoulder, calling his name urgently.

Kate.

He fumbled with his tape player, turning it off and pulling the head phones. Daniel's head lifted and then returned to its position on the couch, this time lying on his cheek to look at her soft face framed by dark brunette hair.

She smiled gently at him, but something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Her smile was gentle yes, but it was wrong.

"Daniel, do you know two girls by the names of Katrina and Taryn Powers?"

He sat up then, ignoring the pain that pulsed through his head. "Yes, they're my sister's children. She died about a year ago, I haven't seen them in a few years. Why?"

The FBI agent shifted from her kneeling position on the floor to sit next to Daniel, but looked at Max instead. "Uh Max could you leave us alone for a few minutes?" her lips pressed into a smile, and he nodded.

He looked rather perplexed as he shut the door.

"Kate what's going on? This isn't another case is it?"

She took a deep breath. "Actually it is Daniel." She forced herself to look at him, her eyes betraying the emotion she was trying so hard to hide. "Were you close to them?"

"Not particularly. Kat would send me letters though. She still does. Usually twice a month. Why?" he looked imploringly at the small woman and tried to make eye contact, and she was the one to avert her gaze. "Kate what's wrong?"

"_This isn't good Daniel. Whatever it is, something bad happened." _

The doctor ground his teeth against the pain in his head, clenching his fists in an attempt to control his snap of "I know" at Natalie. "Kate."

"I'm sorry Daniel, so very, _very _sorry." She placed her small hands around one of his and took another deep breath. "Daniel, Taryn was murdered yesterday afternoon, and last night Katrina was kidnapped. The dispatcher she was talking to heard her screaming for help when she tried to report a break in and found Taryn's body. The police have no leads to go on yet, they're still processing the scene, and they've involved the FBI because of Taryn's… physiological attributes. No pictures have been given to the media to try and find Katrina because we have none of her. She doesn't even have a driver's license."

The pain in Daniel's head was gone. Natalie was gone. The sound outside his head was gone. Kate and her voice and her hands on his were gone. The couch beneath him was gone. And so were Kat and Taryn. The only sound was the subdued beating of his heart inside his chest. He could hardly focus on Kate.

"Daniel."

He was snapped back to reality and Daniel focused back on Kate.

"Daniel they think it may be the work of a serial killer, known to the public as Sweeny Todd. They've asked the BAU to come help with the profiling of the unsub."

"How… how'd they know to contact me?" He asked, slightly dazed, looking off to the side now, but unseeing as he tried to register the information.

"They found a letter addressed to you that was ready to be sent out at their apartment," Kate replied gently, still holding his hand in hers. Her fingers stroked the back of his warm hands, trying to offer him comfort. "They want you to go identify Taryn's body. The FBI have a plane waiting for you."

He blinked out of his trance like stare and looked at Kate Moretti with wide eyes, pleading, need filled eyes. "You're coming with me aren't you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter two. Please review! The end may get a bit creepy. Yes, Elle and Gideon are in this because I'm not past Season 1 of CM (I've seen more of them... Pinkie Promise!) and I like them. Enjoy!**

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

The BAU team gathered in the pep room, clutching mugs and foam cups of coffee. Dr. Spencer Reid's legs were pulled up to his chest in his chair, his curly brown hair covering one side of his face. Jennifer Jareau and Aaron Hotchner stood at the front of the room, looking ever so professional and serious as Derek Morgan, Jason Gideon, Penelope Garcia, and Elle Greenway shuffled into the room and sat around the table, case files spread out for them.

"This case…" JJ sighed, almost in frustration. "This one just got weird. Really weird. The unsub known to the public as Sweeny Todd has been unable to be caught. His signature is to slit the victim's throats, much like the cinematic Sweeny Todd. All the victims are women around the ages of twenty and twenty thirty, never older or younger. All have the same color eyes, blue, same hair color, blond, nearly the same cut. All are raped before he slits their throats and cuts their hands, also receiving blunt force trauma." She swallowed thickly. "There have been about fifteen murders over the past year, across the states. Every scene is left with the same message, left on a mirror in lipstick, 'And I will get her back even as she gloats. In the mean time I'll practice on less honorable throats.'"

"Why has this suddenly become _weird_?" Reid asked, flipping through the file folder.

"The latest victim was Taryn Powers, about an hour and a half south of here." With a deep breath, JJ brought her picture up on the screen. "Taryn isn't… normal. Her sister Katrina was taken, we believe by the unsub. She called the police to report a break in, claimed there to be blood everywhere, found her sister, and the dispatcher claimed that she heard Katrina scream for help before she lost contact."

The rest of the team was silent, staring at the picture of the latest victim.

Gideon sighed heavily. "Let's go."

The shuffling of papers and claps of hands on mugs and cups echoed throughout the silent room. Garcia was the first to reach the door, and as she yanked it open, she nearly stumbled into the small form of FBI Agent Kate Moretti and the tall form of Doctor Daniel Pierce about to knock on the door.

Garcia's hazel eyes opened wide as she righted the headset that was ever present over her constantly changing hair. "Sorry about that."

"No problem. Agent Kate Moretti." Kate pulled out her wallet and flipped it open. "This is Doctor Daniel Pierce. He's a professor and consultant to the FBI branch in Chicago. He's here to identify the body of Taryn Powers." She swallowed hard.

Daniel smiled tersely, lifting one hand up in greeting before lowering it back to its death grip on his satchel.

"Penelope Garcia." The blonde woman smiled and shook hands with the brunette. "Excuse me." She squeezed past the two new comers and made her way back to her computer room.

"Agent Moretti, Doctor Daniel Pierce, I'm agent Jason Gideon, this is my team; Agent Elle Greenway, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid. This is our Communications Liaison Jennifer Jareau."

They nodded to the Supervisory Special Agents.

"Hotch and Reid will take you to the morgue. Thank you for coming here Doctor Pierce."

The neuropsychiatrist smiled nervously again and nodded before stepping aside with Kate to let the tall men lead them through the bull pen of desks. Reid stopped by his desk to pick up his bag-much like Daniel's-and slung it across his chest.

"Excuse me, Doctor Reid, aren't you a bit… _young_ to be working for the FBI? Or be a doctor?" Kate asked as they followed them out to a black SUV.

Daniel tensed, and his head began to throb again. Natalie told him to calm down. He shook her off.

"I graduated high school at twelve years old, and I have an IQ of one hundred eighty seven."

"Oh," Kate nodded and fell back to walk beside Daniel. Daniel's eyes darted to the young doctors back.

"Doctor Reid how old are you?" He asked hesitantly as they got into the SUV and pulled out of the parking garage.

"I'm twenty five." He cleared his throat as he buckled his seat belt. "You're _the _Doctor Daniel Pierce, right? I've read your books and I find them very articulate. I really actually enjoy them."

Hotch rolled his eyes and suppressed a grin.

"Oh… um… thank you." Daniel flushed, holding his satchel closer and tighter to his chest.

Hotch stifled a chuckle with a cough and earned a look from Reid. The elder rose an eyebrow in his direction.

"Eh, sorry." He looked away from his superior and watched out the window as the city passed by.

Kate sat silently next to Daniel in the back of the SUV, watching him from the corner of her eyes. She was worried about him, about what might happen when he saw his niece. How would his _missing _niece affect him? And why hadn't the FBI been brought onto this case before now?

Daniel glanced at her and caught her staring at him. His cheeks flushed slightly as he shifted in his seat and she turned away, most likely to hide her embarrassment. His mind was whirling with thoughts. He'd seen the pictures of his niece. He knew what had happened to her. He wanted nothing more than to just identify the body and go back to the university. For things to just go back to normal again. Or as normal as they ever would be.

"_Daniel, Kat is missing. She was taken away. You can't abandon her. You're all she has left." _

"I know Natalie," he snapped, which was quite out of character for him. He hardly ever snapped at Natalie. Hallucination or no, she was still his best friend.

Dr. Reid and Kate snapped their heads to look at Daniel. Hotch's eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror to look at the neuropsychiatrist with an eyebrow raised.

Now his face really did burn and he turned to watch out the window, pressing his forehead to the cool glass. This was going to be a long ride.

. . .

When they arrived at the morgue forty five minutes later most of Daniel's tenseness and nerves had calmed some, enough for him to breathe a little easier.

As they got out of the car, Reid gently caught Kate's arm before she could join Daniel on the other side. "Uh sorry, but Doctor Pierce… He's paranoid schizophrenic isn't he?"

Kate looked up into Reid's brown eyes. There were circles under them, signifying lack of sleep. "How did you know?"

"I've read his books. He says so in the author bio. But… did he have an episode in the car?"

"I think you may want to take that up with him. I don't think I'm at liberty to discuss such things."

The young genius nodded a bit sheepishly perhaps and let the agent go. Kate gave him a small smile and made her way around the back of the SUV to join Daniel.

His satchel was left in the car, his arms wrapped tightly around him. Reid joined Hotch as they led the two from Chicago into the building.

"Hotch, you do know that Doctor Pierce is a diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic, right? That's probably why he blurted that out in the car." Reid whispered.

"You don't think he's on his meds?"

"No, but it seems like he has it all under control. He called out the name Natalie, which suggests that his hallucination may be auditory and visual, or maybe just auditory. Most paranoid schizophrenics believe that people are out to get them and won't take their medication because they don't believe that it helps them or because it makes them feel numb and wrong. They usually shy away from people and keep to themselves. Doctor Pierce is not only an author, but also a professor at Chicago Lake Michigan University, and a neuropsychiatrist."

The taller man looked down at the young genius skeptically. "So how do you know he's a paranoid schizophrenic?"

"His author bios."

They glanced back at the two following them. Kate's hand was reassuringly laid on Daniel's arm.

"His behavior suggests it as well, but I think he may have developed a system, like a pattern that keeps his mind active and on track. Something that keeps him focused."

Hotch nodded as they reached the elevator doors and waited for the other doctor and FBI agent to catch up to them. Daniel's jaw clenched tightly. Kate's had squeezed his arm gently. The mood suddenly became gloomier than it had been before and they filed silently into the lift.

Reid and Daniel immediately stood to the side, gripping the hand rails that ran along the walls tightly with one hand.

Inadvertently, Kate and Hotch shared a glance with raised brows.

. . .

Sweeny Todd sat in a dust covered chair. His scared fingers pressed together in front of his face. His merciless eyes glaring scathingly at the girl before him, shivering and shuddering violently.

The blindfold that covered her eyes and her hands remained handcuffed behind her back. She laid in the fetal position on the dust covered cement floor in the corner where he'd set her. She was crying silently, tears streaming down her bloodied and dirt covered face.

Why was she so upset? He'd given her what she wanted.

She was different, like him. So different from everyone else; except for her sister who was now dead. He'd watched them for over a year, almost two, always returning to the same place after each kill. He was one that was always shunned, forgotten, left alone, ignored. He was the one that never showed compassion, no empathy, no emotion. But he'd seen her, the one he had before him, constantly looking at him over her shoulder, like she was begging him to take her away. He'd felt something then. Lust for her, longing, burning desire to have her as his own.

But she spent all her time with her sister. Too much time. She was making him jealous. And now he had her. All for himself.

But for some reason, the thrill of the kill had wormed its way into his mind, polluting his thoughts. He couldn't stop the want that he harbored to kill more. To see the fear in their eyes, hear their muffled whimpers and pleas of mercy, to watch as the liquid rubies spilled from their skin. The feeling of power and control consumed him, consumed his mind.

His scathing eyes raked down Katrina's body, drinking in the sight of her. The fear rolled off of her in waves and he grinned. Slowly he made his way to her side and knelt there in the dust and dirt. Gently he stroked the soft fur of her ears and ran his fingers through her long silky hair to her tail bone.

He brought her hair up to his face and he sniffed it appreciatively, slowly.

His fingers drifted along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, down her neck and across her shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter 3 (obviously). Please Review, they are much appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome, please no flames. Oh, and I toyed around with Garcia and Morgan's past a bit, please don't kill me. I promise I didn't change anything too major. I don't think. (There may be a little MorganXGarcia later on too, because they're too cute together not to do anything with.) I suppose there is a bit of X-Men AU type stuff in this story, because I like to make people weird. **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

The coroner pulled the sheet back from the young girls head.

Her ears were stiff, her eyes closed, her skin pastel white.

Kate's eyes widened significantly. Hotch's and Reid's widened slightly, and Daniel covered his mouth with his hand. Grief flashed across his face.

He swallowed thickly and nodded, "That's Taryn." He took in her slit throat, the bruising around the cut, the edges of the incision from the coroner's knife, the way her hair fell so lifelessly around her shoulders, how deathly pale her skin looked, and how stiff her ears were.

"Do you think you could explain how this," the coroner pointed to her ears, "happened? I've never seen anything like this before."

"And hopefully you never will again." Daniel mumbled around his fingers before crossing both arms across his chest tightly. "She was born this way; her and her sister. Nobody knows how or why." He swallowed again. "My sister paid for everything they'd ever need so they wouldn't have to get jobs and reveal their… attributes. She didn't want them to be ridiculed. They were homeschooled, and took online college courses. Neither of them got drivers licenses. My sister, their father and I were the only ones to ever know." he breathed in deeply.

"May I?" Kate hesitantly reached out her hand towards the body.

Daniel nodded slowly.

Gently she stroked the ear nearest her. "I've never seen anything like it all."

"No one else has either. We intended to keep it that way." Daniel tightened his arms around his torso. "She has a dogs tail as well, bushy, like a husky's. Katrina however has cat ears and a cat tail. And nails like a cat too."

"Do you have a picture of her, one we could send out as missing posters?" Hotch nodded to the coroner before he turned to the neuropsychiatrist.

Daniel nodded again and they left the morgue, making their way back to the car.

"Doctor Pierce!" Reid hurried to catch up to Daniel, holding his satchel so it wasn't jostled. "Doctor Pierce I was wondering if I could talk to you. I heard that you're a paranoid schizophrenic, from your author bios."

"I am." Daniel nodded.

"Well, I was just… thinking, or wondering really if what happened in the car, if that was maybe an episode, if you had them. If you know, if you were off your medications. I mean, I'm just curious you don't have to respond or anything I just think it'd be really fascinating." The genius trailed off a bit, becoming a bit embarrassed.

"It wasn't an episode. I can control my hallucinations. Relatively. I have a schedule, a pattern that helps me stay on track. I have some hallucinations, but some of them are fairly regular and don't cause me any stress." Daniel took a deep breath as they approached the elevator.

Daniel and Reid gripped the handrails of the elevator once again, but this time Kate stood by Daniel's side.

Her small hand barely touched his large, warm one. She didn't know how she should feel, if she should be sorry for his loss, and what she should say. Ever since she'd started working with him on cases for the FBI, she'd craved more and more of his company. True, when she was younger in his class she had a crush on him but this was different. She was older now, had more experience, new more things. She wondered how he felt, if he felt any attraction whatsoever towards her, or if all he felt was platonic friendship. Somehow she felt safer around him even though she was the FBI agent and he was schizophrenic.

Daniel's hand itched to take Kate's. He was never comfortable in hospitals, but having someone he trusted, especially Kate, was comforting. He was slightly wary about Reid, and perhaps a bit uncomfortable talking about his diagnosis with him. But there was something about the young man that made him seem trustworthy enough.

Hotch watched Daniel and Kate, and wondered if their attraction was as painfully obvious to them as it was to him. At the moment he would have asked Reid, but the genius was too busy holding onto the hand rail as the lift took them to the parking garage.

They made it to the parking garage safely, much to Daniel and Reid's satisfaction and pleasure, and made their way to the car silently, Kate's arm brushing against Daniel's side with every step.

And yet, though Hotch knew that three of them carried at least one gun, he felt eyes on him, angry scathing eyes, and he assumed from the way that Reid gripped his bag with both hands in a near white knuckled grip, he felt it too.

. . .

Penelope Garcia sat slouched in her office chair, her perfectly painted fingers were pressed together and her perfectly painted lips were pursed. Her glasses were lying haphazardly on her desk of organized clutter, and she blinked back the mist in her hazel eyes. The headset was still on her head, but the mouth piece was away from her mouth.

She knew she should be looking up some information about the victims or the unsub but she couldn't bring herself to do so.

JJ, Elle, and Gideon had gone to the latest crime scene. Hotch and Reid had gone to the morgue with Kate Morretti and Daniel Pierce.

Daniel Pierce.

That had been about an hour and a half ago or so, and she had done absolutely nothing in the time. Her normally bubbly demeanor was sullen, and she was strangely quiet. Even the room with its bright decorations on her computer screens were dull. It was as if a cloud had fallen over the enclosed technical room.

"Garcia? Baby girl you okay?" Derek Morgan came into the room. His mocha skin prickled with goose-bumps from the chill in the air. Her room was usually warm and welcoming, but now it felt a little less than welcoming.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine." The arrival of Garcia's best friend broke her musing mood. She sat up straight, pulled up to her desk, set her glasses on her nose, and blinked her eyes rapidly, clearing the tears from her eyes before Morgan could see.

"Uh-huh." The agent spun her chair around and knelt in front of her, gently taking her hands in his. "See I would believe that if your cozy little lair wasn't lifeless. Even your hair seems dull. What's up buttercup?"

Garcia sighed heavily. "This case… this case is different from the rest."

"I know what you mean. It's not every day you see a victim, let alone random passerby with animal ears and a tail."

"No it's not that love." She shut her eyes and breathed out slowly, collecting her composure into a fragile pile. When she opened her eyes, she took in Morgan's confused chocolate eyes and imploring facial expression. "My real father's name is David Powers."

"Okay." Morgan shrugged his muscle toned shoulders. "What does that have to do with the case? Lots of people have the same last name."

"He had a brother Luke Powers that married a woman Lisa Pierce." She could almost see the pieces slowly falling together in her friends mind. "She had a brother, Daniel Pierce, who, around the time she had twin daughters, started to become estranged to her. Her daughters are my cousins."

"So…"

"Yeah. I was never especially close to Taryn, a little closer to Kat. She's a few years younger than me, about three I think. I haven't seen them in years, ever since my parents died. I didn't even know that they were living here in Virginia." Garcia slouched back again and closed her eyes against the uncharacteristic tears that pricked her hazel eyes. She bit her bottom lip.

Morgan had never seen her like this. He'd never seen his best friend this upset in all the years he'd known her, and he'd known her for the better part of two decades. They'd gone to school together in middle school and high school, and stayed in contact when she'd disappeared off the map and started hacking. They'd studied the same things, been like siblings-almost twins themselves-for all those years, even gotten their jobs at the BAU around the same time. She'd never talked about her birth father's family, he didn't even know she'd had cousins from that side.

And yet through all that, he'd never seen her like this. He'd seen her heartbroken; he'd been the one to bring her ice cream and chocolate and stay up all night watching horror movies with her. He'd seen her when her parents got divorced in high school; he'd been the only one she'd told her true feelings to. But she'd never been this down trodden and melancholy. He'd been there when her parents had been killed by a drunk driver and her step father had been the only one to survive.

He didn't say anything now. He didn't say anything as her glasses fogged up. He didn't say anything when the first few tears slipped out through her perfect eyelashes and trailed her makeup down her pale cheeks. He just pulled her up as he stood and wrapped her up in his strong arms and let her cry and stain his grey t-shirt.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Finally! Chapter 4 is up! Please Review! **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

Jason Gideon snapped his phone shut and slid it away in his pocket as he and Elle Greenaway exited the black SUV. "Hotch just called. He said that the girls are part animal. The animal tail and ears are part of her. Katrina is the same only she has feline in her. This case just got even worse."

They gently made their way into the apartment that belonged to Taryn and Katrina Powers.

"No sign of forced entry at the door. The windows broken, maybe he came in through there. Looks like they fought in the living room." Elle walked through the room, stepping around the blood and broken items. "One of them got hurt and trailed blood into the hall way."

"She put up a fight," Gideon observed. "If she's part dog she most likely had protective or territorial tendencies."

They entered the bedroom.

"It looks like the fight continued in here. It looks like she really put up a struggle."

"Dogs are incredibly strong," Gideon pointed out. "Especially when raised right. This is going to be hard to understand anything about the girls. They have few living relatives but aren't particularly close. They don't socialize with anyone very much so we have no friends to talk to in order to find out if they had any enemies." The older agent crossed his arms over his chest staring at the bed where Taryn had been found.

"Hey Gideon." Elle pointed to the mirror above the vanity. "The message is different."

He turned to the message. "So it is. 'And I will get her back even as she gloats. In the mean time I'll practice on less honorable throats. Attend the tale of Sweeny Todd. He served a dark and hungry god. To seek revenge may lead to Hell, but everyone does it, and seldom as well as Sweeny Todd.' He spells the name differently. There's no third 'e'. Why did he leave more in this message?"

For a moment they stood and examined the note on the mirror.

Gideon's phone rang again. "Gideon."

"Gideon its Morgan. You have to get back here. I think we've got something."

. . .

The conference room seemed a bit more crowded with Daniel and Kate there as well, no matter how far into the corner he stood or how tightly he wrapped his arms protectively around his torso and satchel. Kate stood dutifully by his side; her hands wrapped around one of his arms supportively.

Reid sat in his chair with his legs pulled up to his chin, continually glancing at the two from Chicago, and wondering about Doctor Daniel Pierce. And what they could know by now.

Garcia was sitting perhaps a bit awkwardly in her chair, sullen, leaning on Morgan who had his arms around his best friend.

JJ, Hotch, Gideon, and Elle sat in their chairs around the table more professionally.

"Okay Morgan, what is it that you've found out?"

The darker skinned man nudged Garcia lightly.

"Taryn and Katrina are my cousins," she breathed. "My Uncle Luke married Lisa Pierce."

"Wait, your last name is Garcia-"

"Step father. My birth fathers last name was Powers. My parents divorced, I became a Garcia and then… well anyway. Technically, you may not really be anything to me relation wise, but I suppose we're at least somewhat related."

Reid sat up straight and looked between Daniel Pierce and Penelope Garcia. They were related? Even just because he had a sister that married her uncle? "Does this mean that either of you are in any danger from the unsub?"

"I doubt it." Gideon stood up and walked over to the white bored, pointing to the picture of the last message written in lipstick on the mirror. "What I want to know is what's behind his last note. It's his regular message, but he adds more to it. 'Attend the tale of Sweeny Todd. He served a dark and hungry god. To seek revenge may lead to Hell, but everyone does it, and seldom as well as Sweeny Todd.' But he spells the name differently-"

"It's the last lines of the musical." Garcia and Reid spoke in unison, finishing a bit awkwardly.

"So what does this mean?"

"He must be done." Daniel and Reid spoke in unison this time, finishing awkwardly again, and Daniel shifted uncomfortably as all eyes in the room turned to him.

The neuropsychiatrist stammered. "If it's the last few lines, and it's his first kidnapping, he may be finished. Katrina may be the one he wanted in the first place."

"And then in order to get her he had to kill Taryn." The boy genius stood up and followed Gideon to the white bored. "The less honorable throats may be the other girls he murdered that looked like Taryn."

. . .

Katrina Powers sniffed back her tears, holding her legs tightly to her chest, shivering uncontrollably. Her eyes had been uncovered just a little while ago and she had gotten a good look at her captor.

The handcuff that was attached to a chain on the wall was clasped too tightly and it hurt her to move her wrist.

The room she was in was dank and dusty, filled with empty boxes on one side, with a desk near the mattress he'd set her on. There were soft blankets and a fluffy pillow with silk like sheets and a memory foam topper. A light bulb hung from the ceiling, and a small window let sunlight filter through above her head. A few feet away from the foot of the mattress was a toilet and utility sink

She could smell the mold and the dust that coated the room, and she could hear the wind blowing softly through the grass outside the window. In the middle of the room sat a chair. She could imaging him sitting there watching her.

He wasn't here, where ever _here _was, she couldn't hear anyone.

Her head ached from where he hit her and her wrists were bruised. Her heart ached, literally, from the knowledge that her sister was dead, just like the rest of her family. Except for her uncle Daniel.

_I wonder if anyone's looking for me…_ she thought, sniffling again and wiping her nose.

A bottle of water and pack of crackers sat at the end of the bed with a note.

**I'm sorry there isn't more for you to eat my love, but maybe later I can get you more when I get back from work. **

There was a little heart at the end, and she hadn't touched either of the items. She didn't think she could eat anyway, she felt so sick. The image of her sister continued to flash through her mind whenever she closed her eyes; her slit throat, her bruised body and dead eyes staring off into oblivion.

Katrina grit her teeth and clenched her eyes shut, trying to get the image out of her mind, to make it stop haunting her. A few more tears slipped out and left trails down her face.

She rested her head on her knees and stared at the boxes around her.

Just behind one, by the radiator on the wall, was a little book with a ribbon book mark. It looked like it had suffered water damage, and like there was also a pen with it in a small holder.

Unfolding her body and stretching her joints, she slowly crawled over to the box and pried the small journal from the crevice.

It was a journal meant for a small girl, like a secret diary. It was Lisa Frank, with rainbow butterflies, puppies, kittens and flowers.

She moved back to her corner, her ears and tail twitching, opened it and found it completely empty except for a few doodles on the first page of flowers, smiley faces and a heart with K+S in the middle and an arrow through it.

_Does the pen still work? _She took the pen from its strap and scribbled on the first page until ink began to show. She swallowed hard, flipped to the next page, gently pulling the two pieces of paper apart, and began to write.

**Day 1. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm pretty sure you're all going to hate me at the end of this chapter, and I'm sorry. Sort of. Please review! **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

As hard as they tried, the BAU team was unable to find any leads or evidence that could possibly help them identify who the unsub- AKA Sweeny Todd-really was. Days went by, countless cups of coffee were consumed, the carpeted floor in the conference room was beginning to fade in long runs from the constant pacing. And it wasn't just the team that was agitated enough to pace.

"There has to be something we're missing. I mean, people just don't get kidnapped by someone who doesn't exist." Although he wasn't a part of the team, Daniel had become almost an intricate part of the group.

Kate's warm brown eyes followed his movements as the neuropsychiatrist paced the floor. Garcia was of course in her tech den, JJ was out managing the press and paperwork for other cases, but the rest of the team was in the conference room, reading and rereading the file notes.

"_Well it would seem that way now wouldn't it love?" _

Daniel jerked around to the sound of the English voice, a woman's voice. _Oh no, not now. Please not now!_

The woman he saw was clearly not from this time period, or area. Her skin was almost ashen it was so pale, and there was dark purple under her eyes. Her hair was a curly knot atop her head, and her dress was tattered and ratty. She was _obviously_ a hallucination, one he could very well do without right about now.

JJ entered the room before Daniel had the chance to reply. "Sir, there is a young man here looking for Doctor Pierce."

"What's his name," Hotch asked, weary of any 'young men looking for Doctor Pierce'.

"Max Lewicki."

"Lewicki? What's he doing here?"

JJ nodded when Daniel responded to the name and led him out to the bull pen to meet with his assistant.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have work back at the university?" the doctor's tone was incredulous as he approached the young man, dressed in a plaid sweater vest over a button shirt and tie.

"Actually Daniel," Kate replied, coming from behind him, "I asked him to come." She'd followed them out of the conference room and hesitantly touched his arm. She could feel his muscles slightly tense under her touch, and how warm he was.

"Why?"

"Because he can cook better food for you and keep you on your schedule better than I can. He needs to be with you, for now." Her lips quirked into a nervous smile.

Daniel's arm burned where Kate's hand was resting, though he could barely feel the warmth through his knit shirt. His muscles tensed and his mind buzzed.

"_Well then, seems like you've got a nice lass to 'elp you out then. But you'll still need good ol' Mrs. Lovette, I'm sorry to say. How else are you s'possed to understand dear Sweeny Todd?" _

Spencer Reid stood leaning out of the doorway a bit to watch what was going on. Max Lewicki. He assumed that Max was Daniel's assistant, and he could faintly hear them talking about it. With a gentle sigh, he pulled himself back into the room and sat on top of one of the file cabinets.

Daniel was right; they had to be missing something. He frowned. What were they missing?

He'd seen the picture Daniel had provided of his niece. Her hair was long, a light brown color that framed her face like a halo. Her eyes were a pale green, like a cat's, everything about her screamed cat, and her ears had been a mottled brown color. Instantly he wanted to know more about her, about how her body worked, what she was like, who she knew.

Katrina didn't know anyone, wasn't friends with anyone but her sister and her uncle and Garcia, but none of them knew who would have taken her. Taryn was gone, Garcia hadn't been in contact with her cousin for years, and Daniel hardly ever responded to his nieces letters, usually only when he had a spare moment.

Wait. Letters.

She sent him letters regularly, once every two weeks.

"Hotch, the letters."

"What?" the tall, dark haired agent looked up from his file folder to meet the excited, vacant stare of the young doctor.

"The letters," Reid replied, looking off into the distance, his eyes unfocused. "Katrina wrote letters biweekly to Daniel. She could have written about anyone strange or suspicious in her letters." He blinked, his warm brown eyes focusing on the rest of the team. "We need those letters."

. . .

**Day 1  
Taryn was murdered by Sweeny Todd today, and then he kidnapped me. He was still in the apartment when I got home from looking for a job… there was so much blood... **

**Day 2  
Sweeny Todd took the blindfold off me today. I'm in some basement, probably of his house, on a mattress with nice sheets and blankets and pillows… my head hurts and all he gave me to eat was a bottle of water and crackers. He also left a note saying something about "my love" and I have no idea what he's talking about.  
I found this journal today… it hurts to write, the handcuff is too tight and it's chained to the wall. It smells so bad in here, and I feel so dirty. I can't stop crying, every time I try to sleep I keep seeing Taryn's dead body and blank eyes… oh gosh why did she have to die?! I wonder if anyone is looking for me… if anyone is worried… **

**Day 3  
he thinks I'm secretly in love with him! He keeps talking about the little glances I've sent him, begging him to take me away… I said I had no idea what he was talking about and he told me to keep talking, to sing and tell him stories… when I stopped he told me to continue… he hit me when I said I couldn't anymore.  
He started to brush my hair and I started crying and shivering… and then he took me upstairs, blindfolded and stripped me… he hit me again when I fought against him and then he stuck me in the shower and washed my hair… he at least let me wash myself… I feel even dirtier now. **

Katrina's hand trembled as she closed the diary and tucked it under her pillow, between the wall and the mattress she sat on. His phantom fingers ghosted over her body, taking off her clothes. She so badly wanted to scream, to throw something, but she knew it would do no good. She knew he would just come downstairs, probably hit her, and then stay there and tell her to say something so he could listen to her voice, tell her to say that she loved him.

But she didn't. She hated him. She loathed his very being. Katrina wasn't one to hate anyone, she got along with those that she met, the few she met. But she couldn't shake the fact that he'd brutally raped and murdered her sister, her best friend. And then for him to have the audacity to say that she loved him when he knew nothing about her!

She could feel her tail tip twitching irritably, her ears were laid flat against her head just _thinking _about him. Her long fingers clenched around the bunched up top sheet, her nails nearly poking holes in it.

The way his pale blue eyes trailed down her body-she could feel his perverted gaze on her when he'd taken her upstairs-and the way his awkward hands had trailed across her skin, wrapped her tail around his arm, it made her stomach lurch and her hair stand on end.

Her body curled into a ball as she tried to block out the images of her sister and try to sleep, but it continued to evade her.

The next week passed. Eventually she began to eat, but the good it did her was outweighed by how little it did to help her. She ate little of what he gave her-it wasn't what she needed, and would not speak to him. He would hit her, enraged by her refusal and the way she shied away from him. She'd tried to tell him what he needed but he would just tell her to just babble, tell him she loved him, sing, tell him stories, anything to hear her voice. And yet as infatuated with her and delusional as he was, it almost brought him pleasure and joy to hurt her, to hear her cry in pain.

Another week passed. She wrote in the diary every night, despite how her wrist ached, or how badly her head throbbed, depending on how the day had gone. Every night she prayed that someone would find her, that she would be released from this Hell, that it would just end, that she could just go home. But each morning found her in the same dingy basement covered in dust and empty boxes, trapped with Sweeny Todd, with no hope of escape.

Katrina Power's face was a constant harbor for tears that spilled from her raw eyes. She wrote stories in her head, fairytales where someone would rescue her and take her away to a beautiful house. Sleep eventually befriended her again, and her dreams began to return to their normal state of fantasies and memories of stories she'd seen or read about in years past.

**Day 19  
Not much has changed in the past two or three weeks. I've nearly stopped talking entirely, and because of that he hits me more frequently. I'm beginning to feel sick, I'm not getting everything I need in my diet… I need fat, I can't produce it on my own, but all I get is water, crackers and sandwich meat. Sometimes he gives me milk, and sometimes he gives me fish.  
he continues to wash my hair and keep me blindfolded when he takes me up for a bath, about every other day. I hate him so much… I'm able to sleep easier now, and I don't dream about Taryn's dead body anymore. The least he could do is give me books to read all day… **

The next day, around 7 in the evening, Katrina woke from a nap to the sound of heavy footfalls on the stairs leading to the basement. She immediately shoved the diary under her pillow and folded herself into the corner. The pressure on her wrist from the handcuff increased and it bit into her skin.

Sweeny Todd came into the room, carrying someone over his shoulder, and tossed the body onto the bed in front of the cowering woman.

The man-as it turned out to be-that had been dropped nearly in her lap was tall, skinny, and lanky, with light brown hair that was slightly curled at the ends. He couldn't be older than 25.

Sweeny Todd chained him to the wall as well, tightening the handcuff too much, and dropped first aid supplies at her feet.

"Take care of him, dearest."

She could only nod as she stared wide eyed at the young man lying on the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey, Look! An update! There's not a lot of Katrina in this one-actually none at all really-and it starts about a week after Katrina was abducted, where the last chapter left off with the BAU &c. (I've been reading Jane Eyre and watching Pride and Prejudice lately... excuse my language) **

**Enjoy and please review! **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

After a few more days of the team unable to get any farther in their investigation, Daniel, Kate, and Max were sent back to Michigan. The reception of the letters of the past few years by the BAU team wrapped up the week.

During their stay, while they were on break, or not working on the case, Reid asked Daniel questions relentlessly and incessantly. Questions about schizophrenia, about personality disorders, about neurology, about intelligence. At first, Daniel found it a bit annoying, the way Spencer Reid followed him around where ever he went, constantly asking question after question. He complained the second night to Kate how the cases he worked on were usually the time he got to take off from being a professor-teaching students that really weren't all that interested it seemed in the lecture and just taking the class because they had to-and just focus on things that worked his mind. Now it was just like being back in the lecture hall.

Natalie hadn't come around, and that "Mrs. Lovette" as she called herself was of absolutely no help what so ever. All she talked about was Sweeny Todd, and he already knew all he needed to about that man.

"Hey, at least he's eager. At least he wants to hear what you have to say and wants you to keep talking. The rest of your students probably just want you to shut up so they can sleep or go party."

After Kate had said that, Daniel was able to receive Reid's questions more readily and agreeably, eventually finding the young man's enthusiasm and slight awkwardness to be pleasant to be around. He found himself spending more time with him, going over theories and ideas and notes with him and answering his endless questions in more depth and detail.

Lately Kate had been able to keep him calm, and keep his mind working. Of course, she'd done a lot more than just help his thought process along. She helped him fall asleep-not physically, no, his thoughts surrounding her were his constant companion as he drifted to sleep, and more often than not his dreams were centered around her. Although he had very few hallucinations of her, and usually in the realm of dreams, he could not get her visage out of him mind. Not that he minded of course.

Kate however very much minded his intrusion of her thoughts. She needed to focus much of her time and energy on her work and cases, and yet she found that usually five or ten minutes had gone by and her mind had been transfixed on Daniel. How calm he looked listening to his tape player working on a cross word puzzle, remembering him as he taught neuropsychology to her class and how attractive she'd found him-had she really drawn little hearts over her notes with D.P.+K.M. in those days? heavens how she wished she'd forget her younger days-how he looked after he'd run his fingers through his hair as he thought, about his tall figure and his brown eyes that were constantly moving. After they had left Quantico Headquarters and returned to Michigan, her apartment seemed unnaturally cold and lonely. She missed the sound of his even breathing as she fell asleep that night, even thought she'd only had a week to become accustomed to it.

Kate was determined not to think of him while she worked on her cases, just as Daniel was determined not to think of her while he lectured his bored students.

And yet for all their toils, they found themselves dreaming of the other. They'd never admit that to anyone else, no of course not, and they realized that no matter how many thoughts they repressed of the other, the thoughts would arise again that night from there unconscious, and torment them in the morning for ending.

Reid had been a bit upset having to say goodbye to the neuropsychiatrist, and Hotch had allowed him to tag along when he took Daniel, Kate and Lewicki to the airport. The back seat of the black SUV had been a bit cramped with Reid sitting in between the FBI Agent and doctor, but the young genius hardly noticed it as he took the chance to have one more animated conversation with his new found friend.

At the airport, Hotch promised to call them if they heard anything new and they left.

Over the next few days, the BAU team poured over the copies of the letters that Daniel had sent. Reid tried every possible pattern he could think of to see if there were any hidden messages but to no avail. Nothing made sense, and most of them were ramblings of how her days went and wishing him well.

Morgan pulled out one of the last few letters and started reading.

_**Dear Uncle Daniel,  
Taryn's been acting strange lately. She's been tripping a lot and bruising very easily. She's even snapped at me a few times, and I couldn't figure out why. She started getting sick a few weeks ago, and she wouldn't eat or drink hardly anything. I called Doctor Flemmings, the one that would help mom when we got sick. He came over and said that he couldn't find anything other than just an ordinary cold, but he took some blood samples with him when he left.  
He came back yesterday with the results… and now I can't stop crying and neither can Taryn… she has cancer now, like mom had. I don't know what to do. The doctor said that there was a chance we could beat it, if she went into surgery or chemotherapy. But it costs so much and mom didn't plan for any of this to happen. We didn't have any money put away for anything like this…  
If there's anything you can do to help-I won't ask for money because that's not fair to you-please let me know.  
Love,  
Kat **_

"Hey Hotch! Gideon!"

The two agents left the bull pen and made their way into the conference room.

"Did the autopsy say anything about Taryn having anything wrong with her?"

"Other than the obvious? No, why?"

Morgan held up the letter copy. "This letter says that Taryn had cancer. And I think we may have found someone who could help us with the case. Katrina mentions a Doctor Flemmings. Apparently he's helped the family for a while."

"Have Garcia look up any Doctor Flemmings in the area of their apartment."

"Yessir." As he entered Garcia's tech office, Morgan noticed the room was still heavy with melancholy and depression. "Hey mama. Can you do something for me?"

"Anything for you sugar." Garcia attempted a smile, but it still seemed dull.

"Can you look up a Doctor Flemmings in Katrina's county? This letter was sent to the doctor."

Garcia took the letter from her friend and read through it. A shuddering sigh escaped her lips and she gave it back to him. Her fingers danced over her keyboard and immediately a name and address came up. "Doctor James Flemmings. There's his address."

"Thanks baby girl. I'll bring you a present later." He bent to kiss the top of her head and left the room, taking the sticky note with the address on it with him to Hotch and Gideon.

Gideon, Elle, and Morgan left to talk to the doctor mentioned in the letter, leaving Reid and Hotch to finish reading the letters. The doctor had nothing to give them, no information about Katrina's whereabouts or who could have done anything to hurt them, because they knew no one.

By the end of the second week, they'd gotten no farther in their inquiries. Reid was frustrated with their lack of progress, wanting desperately to find Katrina's captor, who had murdered more than 15 people in the past two years.

He analyzed the letters over and over, the pictures of the past victims and messages left by the unsub. He couldn't figure anything out about the man at all. He knew it was a man; women aren't usually abductors of young women. In fact, he couldn't think of anyone who would abduct someone with no mention of ransom unless-

"Of course." He jumped up from his seat and ran into Hotch's office. "Hotch, there was no mention of ransom when the unsub took Katrina."

The tall dark haired agent set his papers down and frowned at the younger man. "What are you saying?"

"Normally when people abduct someone else, they want ransom or something in return or they just want the person they took, but in this type of case the abductor usually takes someone older for ransom or a prize or vengeance. But when you look at the case, at all the sides of it, he only wanted Katrina."

Hotch folded his fingers in front of his face, thinking about what Reid had said. "You're suggesting that the unsub had a fantasy about Katrina?"

"Katrina and her sister didn't know anyone, they knew themselves, their family, and the doctor. Katrina was looking for a job, but only these past few weeks, but the murders started two years ago, and across the country. The man that took her has to be someone who lives in her relative area, who could see her regularly, at least from a distance, but he had to also be able to travel the country in order to get to the other victims, and have to stay there long enough to find someone that looked like Taryn, and someone who thinks that Katrina has a higher position in society than he does."

"You don't think it's a female?"

"Sweeney Todd was male, and the victims are raped before they're killed, female on female rape is fairly rare." He cleared his throat. "I think he got jealous of Taryn and practiced killing the other women until he felt like he was skilled enough to perform the perfect murder and abduct Katrina."

"Reid you're a genius." The older agent stood up, closing the file folder on his desk and moved out of the office to relate the news to the rest of the team.

"So I've been told."

. . .

Despite the new information provided by Reid, it helped very little, if any. Another week went by but no new suspects were found. There were no witnesses to any of the murders, let alone Taryn's. Morgan had brought Garcia a stuffed bear with chocolates and more frilly pens to try and make her feel better. Elle laughed at him, saying that if he went any farther, he'd end up in love with Garcia and then they'd lose their tech support. Gideon and Hotch watched security tapes from the apartments the latest victims lived in mercilessly, until they knew them forward and backwards. Reid continued to read the letters from Katrina until he could close his eyes and picture every minute detail about them, from the contents to the slant of her letters.

As the end of the third week came to a close, Spencer Reid begged Hotch to take him to the apartment, to see if they could find Daniel's replies to Katrina's letters.

The two hour ride was silent, save for the flipping of pages and steady breathing.

"Reid, you've read those letters over almost a hundred times. You know them from each and every angle. What are you looking for?"

"Anything," he mumbled through his hand, "anything that could help. Something isn't right about this. There's something in these that just doesn't make sense but I don't know what it is and it's sitting there in the front of my mind begging me to figure it out." He sighed heavily, closed the folder and leaned his head against the cool window of the SUV. "I want to figure it out Hotch, I need to."

A silence passed between them for a quarter of an hour, until they reached their destination.

"This isn't just about helping out Doctor Pierce, is it?"

Reid shook his head no. "It's complicated." His tone told Hotch to drop the subject for now and they exited the car and climbed the stairs to the still roped off apartment.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to talk to the manager about saving the apartment until the case is closed."

Reid nodded and entered the scene for the first time, taking in every aspect of it, as if to burn it into his memory. The photos he'd seen were nothing compared to this.

The rooms were cold, a bit dusty from disuse and he felt like he was being watched. The feeling was pushed aside as nothing more than paranoia and he looked through drawers trying to find the letters he was looking for. Once he found them, he quickly scanned through them, walking out of Katrina's room towards the front door.

Five minutes later, Hotch returned to the apartment. "Reid?"

When he received no reply, he entered through the opened door.

His heart pounded and his blood ran cold.

The letters Spencer had found were scattered across the floor, his gun, holster, and his bag among them.

Reid was gone, and there was no way of knowing where he was, or who, if anyone, had taken him.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey look! Another chapter! I was so happy to get more reviews last chapter! They made me super duper happy and excited! **

**I hope you like this chapter! Enjoy and please review! **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

_Previously: _

_Sweeny Todd came into the room, carrying someone over his shoulder, and tossed the body onto the bed in front of the cowering woman. _

_The man-as it turned out to be-that had been dropped nearly in her lap was tall, skinny, and lanky, with light brown hair that was slightly curled at the ends. He couldn't be older than 25. _

_Sweeny Todd chained him to the wall as well, tightening the handcuff too much, and dropped first aid supplies at her feet. _

"_Take care of him, dearest." _

_She could only nod as she stared wide eyed at the young man lying on the bed. _

_. . ._

_Reid was gone, and there was no way of knowing where he was, or who, if anyone, had taken him. _

Hotch arrived back at the Quantico Headquarters and stormed his way to his office. His dark brow was furrowed more than usual, his cynical eyes were brooding and fathomless, anyone he happened to pass shivered from the icy air that rolled off of him.

For a while, hours, he paced his office, having slammed the door shut and drawn the shades.

How? How could this have happened? He was gone for ten minutes! Only ten, and suddenly the youngest, smartest member of his team was just _gone._ Reid was the one that everyone loved, even if they wouldn't admit it. He was the one that everyone secretly admired and watched out for, trying to keep him out of harm's way and safe. The one that when he was in danger, or hurt, _everyone_ swore vengeance on the one that had hurt him. Well, perhaps not vengeance, but heaven help the poor soul that had managed to evoke the wrath and fury of the extremely close knit and protective bonds of the FBI BAU team.

A sharp knock on the door startled Hotch from his silent mourning.

Gideon opened the door and leaned in. "Everything alright? You've been pacing for almost two hours."

The taller man stood up. "Get everyone in the conference room. Now."

"It's almost time to go home."

"Now Gideon." Hotch left his office and walked as calmly as possible to the conference room where JJ was organizing the folders left on the table.

"Everything okay Hotch?"

"Get Garcia in here," he replied, deathly quiet, ignoring her question.

The BAU team was mostly assembled within two minutes.

"I couldn't find Reid, and his phone went straight to voicemail," Gideon was last to enter the room.

"I know."

"What do you mean you know?"

"Reid's gone. We went to the Powers' apartment so he could look for something. I spoke to the manager, and when I returned to the apartment, he wasn't there. The items he was looking for were scattered on the floor, along with Reid's gun, bag, and holster."

The room was completely silent.

If anyone saw the tears that fell from Aaron Hotchner's hard gaze, they didn't say anything about it.

Morgan stood up, tipping his chair over loudly, and slamming the conference door shut as he stomped his way out.

. . .

Sweeny Todd had given Katrina water, cleaning alcohol, gauze and bandages, telling her to clean up the man laid at her feet. He had also given her a few days worth of food and water and told her he'd be back soon from work. He'd kissed the top of her head and ran his fingers through her hair as he left.

She'd given into violent shudders as the sound of his vehicle faded into the distance.

With him gone, Katrina gently brushed the hair out of the young man's face. There were dark purple circles under his eyes, and he seemed to have a somewhat boy-like quality to his appearance. His light brown hair curled at the ends, and was matted to his forehead with blood. He appeared to be tall, perhaps around six feet, and wore converse, mismatched socks, khaki dress pants, and a button down, short sleeved shirt with a tie.

The cat girl quietly opened the gauze pads and cleaning alcohol, gently wiping a soaked pad across the laceration on his temple where he'd been struck. As she cleaned his face, checked his pulse and breathing, and cleaned the blood from his hair, she began to hum through some Classic Disney songs. There was a small bruise on his neck, most likely where the anesthetic was injected rather quickly and painfully. She pulled a small strip of gauze off the end of a pad, folded it, drenched it in water, and laid it onto the bruise.

With his hair clean and his temple bandaged, she rearranged him as best she could so he would be comfortable when he woke up. Her mind occupied, she tied her hair back into a pony tail, took out the soft bristled brush Sweeny Todd had given her, and gently started to brush the young man's hair. there was something sticking out of the pocket on the front of his shirt. Her humming paused for a second, but she continued as she pulled out the item.

His work ID badge.

Her humming stopped completely.

_**FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION**_

_**SPENCER REID **_

_**SSA**_

The ID badge fell from her fingers onto his faintly rising chest.

The FBI.

How did he manage to abduct someone from the _FBI_? And why?

_Are they… are they looking for me? _She scarcely dared to hope.

She resumed humming, pinning the ID badge back to the FBI agents shirt and continued to brush his hair. Her thoughts flashed back to when she would brush Taryn's hair, gently tugging out the knots at the end and running the soft bristled brush through her hair again, letting it fall against her back like it did in the animated movies they watched as kids. His hair wouldn't do that, no it was much too short for that. Her memories flashed to when Taryn and Kat had decided-years upon years ago, when they were young, maybe 10-to cut their hair short for their mom when she got cancer. Their mom had gone out to a doctor's appointment, her hair was already short, and they stood in the bathroom with the kitchen scissors, Taryn cutting Kat's hair first, and then Kat cutting Taryn's. Their mother came home right after they'd finished and were cleaning up the hair, catching them half way to the kitchen trash bin.

She didn't realize she was crying until Spencer Reid flinched from the tears that landed on his face.

Spencer's head throbbed, mainly by his right temple, where he was bludgeoned to be knocked out. Something wet was falling on his face, something small and wet, like raindrops, but they were too warm for that. He groaned in his throat, moving his hand to hold his head. Messages were sent up through his nervous system to his parietal lobe, telling him that something was wrong with his arm-his wrist to be exact. It was uncomfortable; it felt pinched and tight, restricted. His vision was blurry as he opened his eyes. The attempts to clear his mind were revealed a handcuff chaining him to the wall that was too tight, and a woman just beyond that.

"Here," she stopped him from talking, holding a freshly opened water bottle to his slightly parted mouth, gently lifting his head to drink.

Her hands were gentle, holding the back of his head gingerly.

"Your wrist will probably hurt; he doesn't really understand the meaning of comfort. I um… I cleaned your head, and the blood from your hair."

Reid stopped drinking. "Who is 'he'?"

"Sweeny Todd."

The young agent sat up, winching from the discomfort in his wrist and looked Katrina over, noting her twitching ears flicking tail. A closer look into her eyes revealed slightly more cat like eyes. The way she sat with her legs under her and arms holding her torso up in front of her screamed cat. "Katrina? Katrina Powers?"

She nodded. "You're Spencer Reid, right?"

"Yeah, how did you-"

"Your name tag. What… where did he get you?"

"Your apartment. I was uh looking for your letters from Doctor Peirce-"

"Uncle Daniel? How did you know about him?"

"There was a letter on your front table addressed to him. He was with us, with my team and me, for a week after you were abducted, trying to help us find you."

She sat back, pulling her knees up under her chin.

"Um, Garcia… Garcia is really worried too. You should see her office, it's like a dense fog of depression invaded it."

She looked up at him, confusion clouding her eyes. "Who's Garcia?"

"She's… she's your cousin. Penelope Garcia?"

"My cousin Penelope went missing years ago. Years upon years. It can't be her. Her last name was Powers, and she went missing after my aunt and uncle died. We all… we all thought she died."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey look! I have another chapter for you! And free virtual cookies. :D Please review! I hope to update again soon! Thanks so much for all the review and to DaisyDay for being my BETA! **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

The color was drained from his face. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen. Why was fate suddenly thrusting so many of these disastrous happenings on him? He didn't think his psyche could handle much more of this.

First his sister was taken by cancer, and then Taryn was diagnosed, then murdered, Kat was abducted by the killer-the unsub that had an preternatural infatuation with her-and then Reid, Spencer Reid, the young genius FBI agent, the one he'd become rather fond of, that had been the most eager and avid listener since he was reintroduced to Kate, was also abducted.

At that moment, Daniel Pierce was sitting on the sofa in his empty office, his face in his hands. Natalie was unnaturally silent. Mrs. Lovett however, was not.

"_You have to remember dearest, Mister T took more lives than just the one that he wanted to take." _

"Yes, I know," he snapped harshly. "And that's plainly obvious with this 'Sweeny Todd' as well."

_Mrs. Lovett rested her wrists on her hips. "Yes, love, but my Mister T didn't take hostages. What does that tell you about your Mister Todd? Why did he take your trumpet, eh?" _

"What makes you think I would know?"

"_Because you know the mind better than anyone I know." The aberration of his mind sat down next to him and looked at him earnestly. "Think about it. Your Mister Todd has a very sickening fascination with the dear little pet, and killed in order to get 'er." _

"Yes, you've summed that up quite nicely. What am I supposed to do with it now?" The neuropsychiatrist professor stood up and roughly raked his fingers through his already disheveled hair as he began to pace furiously in front of the couch. "He has a mental condition, finding himself to be 'in love' with Katrina because she holds a higher position in life. He thinks that when she looks at him she's begging him to take her away, telling him that she loves him." His hands gestured wildly. A thought struck him. "Why are you even here? It's not as if you can really help me solve a case that I'm not working on."

"_I'm not here to induce muse and inspiration into your mind, love. I'm just here to let you know that you aren't the only one that's been drowned in the backlash of one Mister Sweeny Todd." _

With a large sigh, he sat back down again and buried his face in his hands. He could feel tears of anger and hurt welling up behind his eyelids but he would be damned if he let them spill.

That was how Kate found him, Lewicki having told her that he hadn't left the office room since he'd relayed the new to him hours prior after his last lecture. At first she just sat there next to him, unsure of what to do. Their breathing became synced, the only noise in the still quite of the darkening room. Slowly her small hand had found its way to his back, burning from the warmth that radiated from his body. His hands had eventually revealed his eyes above his finger tips, red from unshed tears, staring ahead of him at some nondescript point on the wall. It was her softly murmured "I'm so sorry, Daniel," that landed them where they were now.

Sitting on the floor of Doctor Daniel Pierce's school office, in the deepening night, with her small arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, and his trembling hands gripping her soft shoulders as he continued to fight back the wetness in his clenched eyes.

. . .

"You thought she was dead?" Spencer's voice rang out through the hollow basement.

Katrina pulled her knees closer to her chest. "We heard about the accident that killed my aunt and uncle. We hadn't heard anything about her or her stepfather. We assumed the worst and lived with it as best we could. It hurt… she can't be alive, is she?" her wet brown eyes held his gaze somewhat waveringly.

"She's been with the BAU for years. She never mentioned her family, so we didn't know until recently that you two were… related…" his voice was air, a bit far away as he thought about his team. A small part of him felt bad for the man that took him, knowing that he would not be in very good shape should they ever get a hold of him. The feeling was immediately extinguished as his eyes roamed over Katrina's thin and pale form, obviously malnourished and abused.

Bruises-ranging from new and forming to old and healing speckled her light skin. A few scratches and scabs peeked out at him, and her eyes looked dull and sunken from lack of sleep. Her hair was the brightest part of her. The fur on her ears and tail looked un-groomed and clumped.

"Aren't you a bit young to be in the FBI? I mean, you can't be that much older than me, but I thought that it took a higher age to get into the Bureau. Even Penelope… I mean, I knew she was smart but I never thought that it would get her into that line of work."

Spencer hesitated. "I'm… well, I'm a genius, as you could call it."

"How?" Her head tilted to the side, her ears cocked at different angles.

Spencer had to tell himself that he did _not_, under any circumstances, find the look to be utterly adorable. "I have an eidetic memory, I can read twenty thousand words per minute, and I have an IQ of one hundred eighty seven. I usually don't think that intelligence can be accurately quantified but it's easier to just tell people that I'm a genius. Most don't understand what I tell them."

"You can remember every word that you've ever read."

His brown eyes widened slightly and he shifted uncomfortably, wincing from the pain in his wrist.

"My mother taught us at home for school. My sister and I learned more than we would have in a public school, and my Uncle Daniel would visit us often. I listened to him while he talked about neuroscience and the brain. After he was diagnosed with schizophrenia, I started to study the brain. I remember listening avidly to him while he used to talk to me about what he learned in college, at the university. It fascinated me. I know what an eidetic memory is." She was avoiding his gaze, picking at her nails. "I know how hard it must be for you, knowing things and remembering things that most people twice your age don't. After learning about and trying to fully understand schizophrenia for my Uncle, I've learned to understand more things, or at least try to." That's when she looked up to him, with something akin to hope or pleading in her eyes. "Will you tell me a story?"

His mind blanked. She wanted to hear a story?

"I've been captive for almost an entire month with no one to keep me company except for Sweeny Todd. He has this fascination with me and listening to my voice. I've stopped talking completely to him, and when he gets very angry with me he hits me because I won't talk. This is the first time I've actually talked in about two weeks. I have nothing to do all day, nothing to read. Except…" here it was her turn to hesitate. She bit her bottom lip gently, having an inner discussion with herself on whether or not she should tell this FBI Agent about the journal. After about a minute she took a deep breath and her eyes flicked to his. "Except for this." Her hand slid under her pillow and pulled out the brightly colored journal and pen. "I found this the second day I was here, wedged between the radiator and a box. I've written in it every day, as small as I can, recording everything that happens."

"You don't think you'll be found?"

"I don't think I'll be found for a while. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to survive if he doesn't give me the foods that contain the nutrients I need. I can't tell him, because he won't listen to anything but my voice." A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth for only a second. "I'm afraid of dying you know. Of falling asleep and never waking up again. But I feel like I will soon."

Strangely enough, that made Spencer's anger spike, and he nearly scared himself-he very rarely ever got very angry. "You won't die." The conviction and emotion behind his words shocked Katrina from her dismal attitude. "I won't let you die. Somehow we are going to get through this and you will get out of here. My team… they'll find us. I know they will. They will do anything they can, even if it's not within their rights, to find us, to find _you_." He cleared his throat awkwardly, and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

The handcuff dug into his wrist painfully.

Katrina smiled lightly at him, and her muscles relaxed a tiny bit.

After a few moments of a not quite awkward but not quite comfortable silence, Spencer asked, "What story do you want to hear?"


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Well aren't you some lucky duckies! Another chapter is up and out! This one is more like a filler chapter while I decide how to bring Kate and Daniel together and all that jazz. Once again, thanks so much for the reviews AND another thanks for DaisyDay for being my BETA and being so incredibly fast-I finished this chapter up last night and sent it to her and it was waiting for me this morning before I went off to work. You, madam, are a saint. **

**Please enjoy and review! **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

It had been two hours since Katrina had drifted off to sleep. Spencer was still wide awake, trying ever so valiantly not to watch the cat-woman sleep and failing just as miserably. She'd written in the very girly and shockingly bright journal for a few minutes, absently chewing on the end of the pen, just before they agreed to go to sleep. Just before that they'd silently eaten some of the food that Sweeny Todd had left, and Spencer decided that by the end of this-however far away that end was-if he was continually fed only crackers and water, he would never touch another cracker again-if he survived.

He also decided that he would ask the unsub-no, he wasn't an unsub anymore, at least not for him-he would ask _Sweeny Todd_ for better foods that would provide Katrina with fat, protein, sugar, and calcium-especially fat. He knew cat's couldn't create their own body fat, and if she wasn't getting any in her diet, she would wither away soon enough.

He shuddered at the thought. He'd only known her for about five hours, but already he knew why Daniel was so upset about losing her, even if he never saw her and only conversed with her through letters twice a month.

There was a clock above the door that led out of the basement that told him it was almost one in the morning. The tick-tock of the hands was just loud enough to be heard above Katrina's soft breathing and grate on him.

His eyes were back on his new companion. She was wrapped tightly around herself in the fetal position, her tail curled around her legs, her ears lightly flicking in her slumber. The blanket that had been covering her was no longer doing its job. The chain connecting her to the wall was laying across her harmlessly, but he knew that it was one of the most damning things that she would ever know.

Spencer stiffly stretched his legs out and gently crawled over to her, lifting the blanket over her small form. He stopped moving suddenly.

_Was that… did she just_ purr_? _A quick glance at her face showed him a small smile that twisted the corner of her mouth and she snuggled deeper into the blanket so that only the tips of her ears were showing. Once again he had to tell himself ever so ardently that he did _not_ find that endearing and adorable.

The same could not be said for what had happened earlier.

*flashback*

"_What story do you want to hear?" _

_Katrina smiled lightly. "Anything you care to tell me. I'm not picky." _

"_Hmm." Spencer hummed to himself, thinking about what story he could tell her. He'd never been one to tell stories, that job was left to his mother and the rest of the BAU team. He was the genius that spouted facts that were usually useless and earned him awkward stares. What kind of story could he tell that she could follow along with? There were the books he read but those were in different languages and he couldn't very well tell her a story that she couldn't understand. There were also the SciFi TV shows he watched. _

_Now there's an idea. _

"_Have you ever heard about 'Doctor Who'?" _

_She shook her head no. _

"_Well, there's this man. And he travels around a lot, almost everywhere in space and time. He's called the Doctor and usually he travels with a companion, but lately he's been alone. He travels in his spaceship called the TARDIS, time and relative dimension in space. Now the thing about the Doctor is that he's a Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey. He had two hearts and a way of cheating death-he can regenerate, but only about twelve times. It's extremely painful because every single cell in his body changes. He's the same man, but different-he has a completely new personality and likes different things, but he keeps all the memories from his past… personas. _

"_Now, he's in his ninth regeneration. He has short hair and big ears and a goofy grin. He wears a green jumper under a black leather jacket and black pants and shoes. The only things he carries with him at all times are his Sonic Screwdriver-which can unlock and work on everything-well, not everything, everything but wood-and his Psychic paper which will show anyone whatever he wants them to see-unless they have basic psychic training, in which case all the person will see is a piece of blank paper." _

_Katrina watched him eagerly, her knees still hugged to her chest, but her brown eyes were wide and bright. Her tail was wrapped around her feet. _

"_Let's see, how to begin." He felt a bit strange, telling her the story of the Doctor. He didn't feel like himself-he was never really all that much of a story teller unless it had to do with past serial killers. "It's like this. There's this girl, Rose. She's only nineteen, living in London with her mom-most of the stories happen in London or Cardiff-and works in a clothes shop. She has a boyfriend, Mickey, and her dad died when she was just a baby. One day while she's at work, the shop dummies-you know the mannequins-come to life and start to chase her around the building basement. _

"_That's when she meets the Doctor. He opens a door right in front of her and the first thing he said to her was 'run'. He introduced himself to her and then blew up her work place…" _

*end flashback*

He could remember clearly the way her mouth stretched into a smile as he portrayed a few episodes of _Doctor Who _to her. She'd never even heard of the BBC show and her attention was successfully ensnared for an hour or two. The way she had watched him so intently and listened so carefully to his words had been energizing and somewhat refreshing, compared to the usual confused stares and half-horrified-half-disgusted looks he was used to.

He sighed heavily and dragged his hands down his face, tearing his eyes off Katrina's resting form. Stretching again, he pulled himself over to the sink and toilet that stood just beyond the desk next to the mattress they sat on.

Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, hoping to wash away the growing fatigue that plagued him. He never slept much, having trouble with insomnia many nights and finally sleeping after exhaustion claimed him.

The clock read one thirty.

He groaned as he sunk back down onto the opposite end of the mattress. Things were starting to get very complicated.

Sleep was obviously not going to come easily tonight.

. . .

The exact same could be said for the rest of the BAU team. Elle had gone home, finding it hard to constantly look up, wanting to ask Reid a question about who might have abducted Reid and why, only to realize that Reid was the one they were trying to find and couldn't ask him a question regarding himself. She wasn't sleeping very well; the sleep she did catch was fleeting and drenched with dreams about a Reid-less BAU team.

Garcia and Morgan were sitting quietly in her tech room, just to be with someone else who knew how they felt, not wanting to sleep or be out where there were details that would remind them of the young genius. The tech analyst was tapping away at her keyboard, looking for anything that would give them a lead to find Reid, but coming up with nothing. She continually sighed heavily and Morgan would start to massage her shoulders while she covered her face with her hands. "I know, baby girl, I know," was all that would be said before she started typing again.

JJ sat in her office chair, staring at the file folders that cluttered her desk and then out her window to Reid's empty cubicle, also cluttered with files and miscellaneous nondescript items, and then out the other window towards the twinkling stars. She often found her fingers brushing tears from her face and under nose so she wouldn't start crying.

Gideon was in his office, his fingers pressed together in a steeple under his nose, watching the clock on his desk tick the time away. His mind was on Reid, on the young man that he took under his wing, that he felt responsible for. His absence was painfully obvious, and often he could feel his heart beating in his chest while his breath came harshly and he blinked hot, angry wetness away from his clouded vision.

Hotch was left in the conference room for a few moments before he stood leaning against Reid's chair in the room, his head bowed and shoulders slouched as he let his firm and strict mask fall, revealing the wounded and tortured emotions show on his face. His fingers gripped the chair tightly and he left abruptly, the chair spinning from his lost contact. He wouldn't look back-he knew all too well that if he did the spinning seat would be occupied by a ghostly image of Reid. By the time the BAU leader reached his home, his hair was disheveled, his tie was undone and his suit jacket rumpled over his arm. The only thing he could get out of his mouth was a broken, "Reid is missing" before his wife's slightly annoyed and flustered "why are you home so late?" face was replaced by concern, sympathy and comfort. She wrapped her arms around him as he sank to his knees in front of the door and held onto her. Her fingers ran through his hair and gently rubbed his back as he fought with his inner demons.

He had been with Reid-if he had only stayed with him while he looked for the letters, if Reid had gone with him to talk to the manager, if only he hadn't been gone for so long, if only Reid hadn't been so adamant about going down to the girls' apartment, _if only_-

Guilt gnawed at Hotch's heart and mind. He knew he wasn't going to find sleep that night.

He wasn't sure how the team would survive without Spencer Reid.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello lovlies! Chapter 10 is up and I hope you guys don't hate me too much by the end of it. In case anyone wonders, they are chained to the wall so they can't really go anywhere or retaliate, and they're also a bit malnourished. Again, thanks for the reviews, and thanks also to DaisyDay for being a *fabulous* BETA-read for me. **

**Please review! **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

It was early morning. Gentle sunlight filtered through the small window above the mattress Katrina slept on, curled into a tight ball. She stretched, very much like a cat, and yawned. Her wrist throbbed with a now common dull pain. Something tickled the bottom of her foot, something soft.

She yelped in surprise, drawing herself into the corner, until she realized what had happened. She smiled slightly.

Spencer Reid, SSA FBI Agent, young genius, lover of all things SciFi, was half splayed across the bottom of the mattress, half lying in a crescent moon shape. His hair was ruffled, and he was breathing deep and evenly, still very much asleep. He looked much more peaceful in this sleep than he had yesterday when he had arrived.

The blanket he had used was twisted around his lanky body and limbs, his mouth slightly parted.

Her tail flicked in amusement and she smiled again, smoothly prying the blanket loose and covering him up properly with it.

That done, she went through her now normal morning routine of going to the bathroom, washing her face with cold water and brushing her teeth before she settled back down to watch Spencer.

As soon as her tail was tucked safely around her drawn up legs, his eyes snapped open and he jolted upright, his face confused and not quite scared, but close enough. It was the horror of knowing one slept in too late and was then late for something they should not be. Immediately he grabbed his head as pain throbbed in his temples and soreness ached from his stiff arms and legs.

"Spencer? Are you alright?"

Katrina's soft voice cut through the haze that was surrounding his mind, officially letting him know that the day before had not been a dream and that he was indeed captive in a basement with a handcuff that was locked too tightly around his wrist.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." He fell back onto the mattress and sighed heavily. "I just… thought that it was a dream," his voice was far away, wistful.

"Oh." Her mind wandered to thoughts she never knew she would have, thoughts that she knew she probably shouldn't have at this time, seeing as she was captive in a basement that belonged to a madman that thought she was in love with him.

Katrina pondered Spencer Reid. His warm brown eyes, the boyish look of his features, his highly trained mind full of knowledge and stories, his long fingers and thin wrists-almost as thin as hers, his soft light brown hair and the way it curled at the ends, the way he talked, and the way he spoke and gestured when speaking about "Doctor Who", the way he smelled.

"You smell like coffee."

"I'm… I'm sorry?"

_Oh my gosh… me and my big mouth,_ she thought, mentally berating herself for her lack of thought filter. "I mean… sorry. I haven't had coffee in almost a month. You smell like coffee, and…" she sniffed, wrinkling her nose slightly (again, Spencer told himself that it was endearing the way she did that _at all_) and frowned a bit, "sugar. Not just regular sugar though, like, candy type sugar."

"You can smell all that?" the young genius sat up, crossing his legs and turned to the young cat woman.

"Well, being a cat, my senses are heightened. At least some of them, like my vision, hearing, smell, and balance." She smiled slightly.

"I take it you can also purr?"

. . .

Sweeny Todd had returned by the end of the week. The first thing he did was yank them out of sleep and shower them. She apologized as much as she possibly could when he returned afterwards.

He smiled at her shakily and told her that he'd be fine.

They fell into a routine. Every other day they would be showered. Sweeny Todd would leave then, giving them water and some type of food. After they heard his truck rumble into the distance Spencer would tell her more about "Doctor Who", or she would tell him stories about her childhood, or stories she had made up in her head. Every night Sweeny Todd would return, try and get Katrina to talk to no avail, sometimes "punishing" her, as she described it to Spencer while he cleaned her up and then she would write in her brightly colored Lisa Frank journal and then tuck it safely behind the mattress under the pillow.

Eventually Spencer got the nerves to tell him that Katrina needed more than just crackers. The man had looked at her. His eyes scathed down her frail body. They flashed back to Spencer's form.

"And _what_," he hissed, his voice slithering over the walls of the room, "makes you think that?"

"W-well, she needs it. She's part cat, she needs fat and more nutrients. She… she told me."

"_She _told _you_?"

Spencer hadn't gotten to reply. Sweeny Todd hit the young cat-woman and screamed at her, demanding she talk to him. When he got no reply, he backhanded the genius, eliciting a high pitched squeal of alarm that sounded an awful lot like a cat noise from Katrina. She refused to speak again and received more blows from the angered murderer before he stormed from the house.

His truck screeched from the residence and it wasn't until it was completely silent again until Spencer crawled over to the still form of his companion.

He told her a happy story from "Doctor Who" that day.

Weeks passed.

One night, Spencer took the journal out of the safety of its nook and read it, after Katrina had fallen asleep. He didn't want to, not really, but she wouldn't say anything about the first three weeks of her captivity.

He stopped after the first few entries, not wanting to read anymore, no matter how badly he wanted to know. That night, he laid down next to her curled up body and watched her, eventually falling asleep.

The next morning he woke up to her screaming in agony.

. . .

What. How. How did this happen. Why did it happen.

Katrina's mind raced.

Her tail twitched.

Another scream ripped through her throat.

Spencer had jolted out of his peaceful slumber at her first scream.

She had been torn out of sleep by pain, searing, throbbing, agonizing pain emanating from her tail.

"Oh my gosh…"

Through her tear burning eyes, she could faintly see Spencer's horrified face, and she barely heard his breathed exclamation through the pounding in her ears.

She gasped through the pain.

"I'm so sorry my dear, but you see, it had to be done." Sweeny Todd's blood covered hand smoothed down her hair. he looked to his other captive and tossed a plastic bag from a convenience store full of first aid supplies at him. "Take care of it." His voice was harsh compared to the soft crooning he'd used with Katrina.

"It had to be done?" Spencer asked, incredulously challenging his captor. "She needs that! It's part of her spine! She could be permanently damaged or even crippled from that!"

Sweeny Todd sent the young FBI Agent reeling, leaving a blood smear across his rapidly reddening face. While he was down, the serial killer snipped off a lock of Spencer Reid's hair. "Take care of her. Or your punishment will be much more… permanent."

Katrina screamed again with another twitch of her tail that was now cut short, bleeding onto the mattress.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello lovelies! I have another chapter for you, and I hope it's a sufficient apology for last chapter. Please enjoy and review! **

**Thanks for all the reviews so far, and to DaisyDay for being a fabulous beta! (By the way, she has some pretty awesome Perception KateXDaniel fics, go read them) **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

"Sir, there's a box here. It's addressed to the entire BAU team."

Agent Hotchner looked up from the file he was reading. JJ could see the fatigue he was fighting off. She didn't think he'd even been sleeping very well. His clothes looked rumpled, unlike his normal straight laced, pressed suits. His hair wasn't as clean cut either, and his eyes looked almost bruised from lack of sleep. "Does it say who it's from?"

"No sir. No sign of any explosives or poisons. Security delivered it." JJ held the package gingerly in her hands.

The taller agent stood and nodded. "Everyone to the conference room."

"Yes sir."

Hotch took the box from the communications liaison and walked the thirty or so feet to the conference room. The box was set on the table as everyone filed into the room and took their seats.

Over the past few weeks that Reid had been missing, his picture had been accompanying Katrina's on the news programs as a missing person. Morgan had been sitting closer to Garcia, visiting her more often and spending almost every free moment with her. JJ and Elle were spending more time together, and thus crowding in on Gideon and Hotch's offices. None of them were alone for more than the few hours that it took to get home, sleep, and get back to Headquarters.

Hotch pulled out his keys and cut the tape holding the box together. His keys fell to the top of the table and his hands landed flat on either side of the box, propping his torso up.

Gideon looked at the dark haired agent over his glasses. "Hotch. What is it?"

Hotch's eyes were broken, twisted with horror and pain. "It's a tail. A cat's tail. Katrina's tail."

"Oh my gosh." Garcia's face fell into her arms on the table in front of her. Morgan was even closer then, whispering in her ear and gently rubbing her shuddering back.

"There's a note as well. _'She is mine at last, and she has a companion for when I cannot be with her. You should not worry too much, neither are hurt beyond repair-the Doctor you see takes very good care of my little Rose-but I warn you, if you dig too deep, their souls will belong to the dark angel of Sweeny Todd.'_"

"That's not even in the script of the book or movie," Gideon scoffed. "I guess he really is done now."

"Yes, but who's the companion?" Elle asked, obviously frustrated.

Garcia gasped and her head shot up from the table, her white blonde curls bouncing around her still perfectly made-up face. "Let me see that note."

Hotch placed the piece of crinkled paper into her perfectly manicured hands and she read through the note.

"Garcia what is it?"

"He's got Reid!"

"How did you come up with that baby girl?"

"Do none of you watch BBC or any science fiction at all?! It's obvious! He's taunting us! He has two people that are meaningful to us, and he _knows _it and he's flaunting it!"

"But _how,_ babe?"

Her hazel eyes flicked around the room. "His words. Just _look_. 'Companion', 'the Doctor', 'my little Rose', those are all _Doctor Who _references. Reid and I are rabid Whovians, we watch it all the time. He has Spencer."

. . .

Max Lewiki's phone began to ring as he was grading papers in the middle of Daniel Pierce's lecture.

The neuropsychiatrist glanced sharply at his assistant, annoyance clearly painted on his stubble ridden face.

Max rolled his eyes and left the room, answering the phone as he shut the door.

"Max its Kate. The BAU just called me."

"Is everything alright?"

"Not really," her voice trembled. "Can you put Daniel on?"

"He's in a lecture."

"Okay. I'm on my way over there right now."

"Kate what's wrong?"

"You'll find out soon." The line went dead then, and Max slowly closed his cell phone.

Daniel's tired eyes followed his assistant back into the room a bit distractedly. A few moments later his lecture was wrapped up and he sent his class off with a groan worthy assignment.

"Kate's on her way over here. She said the BAU called her. It didn't sound good."

_Mrs. Lovette stood next to Daniel, her pale face drawn and even more pale and sickly looking, as if she shared his sleepless nights. She wrung her hands together tightly. "I'm not sure I want to hear this." She glanced up at Daniel, her black eyes pools of worry. "I don't even know your pet and I'm terrified for her." _

Daniel refrained from replying to his aberration. "Great," he replied sarcastically, wrapping himself in his coat and scarf tightly, gripping his satchel tightly to his chest with one hand and his tape player in the other. His long strides quickly took him out of the classroom and to his favorite bench in the courtyard of the university.

The tape pumped Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 through his head. He didn't even bother to pull out his cross word puzzle, Daniel just sat on the bench and let the music flood his mind. He ignored Mrs. Lovette when she sat beside him, still wringing her lanky fingers together, frequently drawing them through her tangled curls piled on her head.

Kate silently sat next to Daniel, rubbing her hands along the tops of her thighs nervously.

With a sigh, Daniel gently turned off the tape player.

"Daniel… I don't really know how to put this lightly. The BAU called me. They thought it would be best coming from someone you knew." She swallowed thickly. "They received a package today, from Sweeny Todd." Her voice volume fell to just above a whisper, and she was afraid of the way it would crack. "They don't know why he did it, but he cut off Katrina's tail and sent it to the team at Quantico. He's also the one that abducted Spencer Reid."

_Mrs. Lovette inhaled sharply, the breath sounding more like a hiss than anything else. _

Daniel fought the urge to respond violently. How could that man even do that to her, if he claimed to love her so much? His vision darkened, and he felt light headed for a few moments. His vision swam for those few moments, through the darkness he could see even darker splotches. Daniel's large hand shot out and found Kate's, gripping it tightly.

He wasn't sure how, hours later, he seemed to come out of a dream on his leather couch. At home.

Kate was curled up at the opposite side, a blanket tucked around her legs, reading a book.

"Kate."

She set the book down gently and stretched her legs out from under her, scooting across the leather to Daniel's side and then took his hand again.

When had she gotten so bold with him? The thought made her face heat slightly. "Daniel I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how much this is affecting you, and I'm so sorry that I can't do more for you."

He looked at her then, for the first time that day. His eyes were rimmed with tears. "Kate, I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to deal with this."

The way his voice cracked broke the FBI agents heart, and she couldn't keep reign over the tears that subsequently spilled from her chocolate eyes. Her left hand brushed and errant tear from Daniel's face, her smooth skin catching a bit on his stubble lined jaw. She brushed back his hair, her thin fingers tenderly running through his mottled and somewhat prematurely graying hair. "I'll help you," she breathed, the words catching in her throat. "Okay? You're not alone in this. I'm here for you."

Daniel blinked back the tears in his eyes to look clearly at the woman in front of him, her features softened in the glow of the sunset filtering through the windows and lamplight. The tears on her face glistened. His hand moved to her small face, his rough skin softly brushing away the wetness trekking down her heated cheek.

She drew in a shuddering breath, suddenly feeling the air between them crackle with tension. Her sudden hyperawareness of his proximity heightened her other senses. Had his eyes always been that shade just between hazel and gray? Had he always smelled like tea and tea tree oil? The sharp scent of mint assaulted her, but she couldn't find it in her to care. His fingers burned on her face.

Daniel swallowed thickly. His stomach turned and his heart stuttered. When had her skin become so petal like? Like the petal from an orchid or rose. And since when were her eyes so dark and her hair so smooth? He felt the air between them become heated instantaneously. His eyes flicked between hers and then down to her mouth, immediately flicking back up to her eyes.

A black hole formed between them, drawing the breath from their lungs and drawing them towards each other.

Their noses brushed.

The tips of his hair brushed across her forehead.

Her breath mingled with his.

Their eyes were closed.

He breathed her in-the strawberries she ate at work, the coffee she drank regularly, the soft scent of Shea Butter.

She tilted her head, and her nose brushed against his cheek.

He leaned forward the tiniest bit.

Their lips tingled with heat when they met as softly as the whisper of a feather. They tentatively pressed closer together, and then with more daring. She fit against him like a puzzle piece comfortably settling into place. His hold tightened around her, his arm wrapping around her back and pulling her against his warm body. She went willingly, her mouth moving with his softly, her small fingers knotting in his hair and the front of his wool coat.

Daniel pulled away slowly to catch his breath. Kate rested her head in the crook of his neck, still keeping hold of him and breathing in his scent. His arms wrapped around her, gently holding her close to him, and he buried his face in her soft brown hair.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: look guys, I made a thing, aren't you happy? I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter churned out, but with work, and the entire remodeling of half our house and boyfriends and all that jazz-including writers block and worrying about things so much I can't sleep well-it took longer than expected. Of course, add to that the new addiction of tumblr and SUpernatural and well... my life is deteriorating before my eyes. **

**I'll be starting school again too, August 20th I believe. 5 classes, tuesdays and thursdays, _all _day, beginning at 8 am. and then work. and stuff. **

**Anyway. Enjoy the show (chapter) and please leave a contribution in the little box (review. much appreciated.) (oh, and thank you so very much to DaisyDay for being a fabulous beta) **

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

Spencer gently washed the blood off of Katrina's shortened tail. She whimpered slightly from the pain, gripping the sheets tightly in her hands. He didn't say anything as he cleaned the wound, covered it with an ointment and clean gauze, wrapping more gauze around it and a short ace bandage.

With the left over gauze pads, Spencer gently cleaned the smeared blood from Katrina's face and hair while tears fell from her eyes and pooled on the mattress under her head.

She hissed in pain as her tail twitched. "I can't do this Spencer," she gasped. "I can't… it hurts…"

"I know-well, I don't really know but I can imagine. I know it hurts. I'm sorry."

Her eyes clenched tightly against the tears that continually poured from her eyes.

"You can't not move it can you?"

"If I try very hard. But I have to concentrate on not moving it." She winced as she pushed herself up, sniffling. Her thin fingers flicked the tears off her face and she looked at Spencer with bloodshot and tired eyes.

"Katrina-"

"Please, call me Kat." She pried the sodden gauze from his fingers and started to clean the blood off of his cheek.

"How appropriate," he whispered, quirking a smile.

"Taryn would call me Kitty. I called her Puppy sometimes, just to get her riled up. She would try not to smile because she knew why I was doing it. I would never make her angry; she was almost scary when she got mad because she was part dog, y'know? She always said that I was cute when I was mad."

"I never had any siblings. It was just me and my parents until my dad left."

"Spencer I'm so sorry." Katrina let her hand fall from his face to squeeze one of his. Her fingers felt chilled against his warm hand; it was soft.

"It happened a long time ago. People always say there are many ways for sons to defeat their fathers. I just keep getting PhDs." He returned the squeeze, but never let go of her hand.

. . .

**Day 54 **

**Sweeny Todd cut off my tail today. I don't know why and it hurts more than anything. Spencer took care of it. He… I think I might… I think I might love him. I don't know what it's like to be in love, but Spencer… the way he talks about **_**Doctor Who**_**, and he gets so excited about it. The way he smiles is just so… attractive. His hands are really soft, and his hair, and his eyes are just so… I sound like such a fan-girl right now. And he's a genius too, like a legit genius with a high IQ and everything, and it's really kind of attractive, you know? But I mean, even though I'm captive, and he is too, I just… I don't know how to explain it. It's not fair. I never got to bury Taryn, to say goodbye, I'm chained to a wall in a dingy basement, held by a madman, my tail's been cut off, and there is nearly no hope in sight, and yet I think I'm falling in love with this man that's been forced to share this fate with me. He told me more stories about the Doctor today. He even told me about Penelope. She sounds like she's doing so well now. **

Katrina stopped writing and closed the brightly colored journal. She was curled up tightly in the corner, keeping an eye on Spencer. Her face heated when she remembered how long they'd sat holding hands. Of course it had been awkward-the young boy genius, pride and joy of the BAU, who had a hard time around women, holding hands with the young cat-woman, who'd never held a conversation with another person of the opposite sex for longer than one minute, and the entire reason Spencer was locked in the same basement she was.

Spencer was focused on the mattress, watching it intently.

"Spencer how many PhDs do you have?"

"Three. I also have to Bachelor degrees in psychology and sociology."

She looked at him with soft eyes. "You do all that, just to defeat your father? To be better than him?"

"I needed something to do with my time. My mind is always racing, always thinking about something else. Focusing on something like school helped. Working at the BAU has been good. It keeps my mind occupied, but I suppose at some point it was a way to prove that I wasn't my father and that I was better than hm."

Katrina smiled apologetically at him. "Spencer… thank you. For taking care of me. I'm sorry that you're stuck here with me, and that you've been hurt because of me."

"Katrina it's not your fault. I was in your apartment looking around for anything to help us find you and apparently he had been there."

"Spencer…"

The door to the room the occupied at the top of the stairs opened with a slam.

Kat's eyes widened in horror. As Sweeny Todd came down the stairs, she curled into a tight ball on the corner of the mattress, leaving the journal out on the comforter. Spencer picked the journal up; Sweeny Todd was nearly to the bottom, carrying a new mattress. Without thinking, Spencer shoved the journal in between the wall and the radiator before sitting in front of it.

Their captor dropped the mattress on the ground, sending dust flying through the air, and then went back up the stairs and outside. Given more time, the FBI agent pulled the journal from behind him and quickly tucked it away under the sink.

This time Sweeny Todd came down the stairs with a new sheet and blanket set. "Get up."

The two captives stood up quickly, Katrina wincing as she pressed against the wall.

Sweeny Todd removed the sheets and blankets from the mattress, balling them up together, and pulled the bloodied mattress from the ground. "Don't move."

Katrina avoided eye contact, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. When Sweeny Todd returned from taking out the bloodied mattress and blankets, he shoved the new queen sixed mattress into place, tossing the sheets and blankets on top. "I'll be back in an hour to give you your food." He left once more, stomping up the stairs and locking the door loudly.

Kat let out a shaky breath as she slowly knelt down.

"Kat, drink this." Spencer took the lid off one of the water bottles they'd been left with and handed it to her. "You need to stay hydrated. You've probably been in shock all day and lost a lot of blood."

The cat woman took the bottle and tentatively took a few sips before nearly draining the entire bottle in one gulp. "We should make the bed."

Spencer nodded and they set to work pulling the sheet over the mattress.

"Spencer tell me something."

"Hmm?"

"Anything. Any random facts."

His brown eyes looked at her curiously. "What do you want to hear?"

"Whatever comes to mind." She met his gaze steadily.

"You want to listen to me… ramble off useless facts of information?" his voice sounded as if this was something new.

"I never went to school or college. I was homeschooled with Taryn and there's so much that I want to know that I've never gotten the chance to learn about. Who wouldn't want to listen to you?"

"Everyone."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I'm sorry this has taken so long, I really need to get my act together. Anyway. School starts in two weeks, work is taking over my life, tumblr killed me, bridal shower tomorrow for a friend, pig roast next week for a friend, wedding in three weeks for a friend, but at least we have a kitchen. Not to mention the diet I'm going on. **

**All I can say for this chapter is please don't hate me. But you probably will. please review! **

**Love,**

**BRTxoxo**

* * *

It had been weeks since Reid had been abducted, and since the team found out that Sweeny Todd had taken him, they'd nearly doubled their efforts to find him and Katrina. They'd notified Daniel about the revelation, but after a fortnight had passed, they were forced to set the case aside to take on other cases.

Hotch was tormented every day, stressed when he knew that if he had stayed with Reid, they could have potentially caught Sweeny Todd and the whole ordeal would be over; Reid would be safe, Katrina would be with Doctor Pierce, tail would be intact, and Sweeny Todd would be on trial. The team would be having an easier time with cases with Reid's non-stop babble of useless facts. They wouldn't be on edge all day, muscles tensed to the point of exhaustion.

Hotch would be able to sleep at night.

Garcia and Morgan would flirt shamelessly again.

JJ and Elle would smile more.

Gideon would take breaks and eat.

If only Hotch had stayed with Reid at the apartments.

By the time two months had passed since Reid's disappearance, the team had fallen into a routine: get to work, look at satellite photos of Virginia to see if either Reid or Katrina had been outside at all, sigh heavily when nothing showed up positive, and then turn to other cases. They would take turns keeping his desk in some semblance of his normal way, and it was not uncommon for one of them to shed at least one tear by the end of the day.

After three months, and no word from Sweeny Todd or the captives, the case went cold, and was set on the shelf. Hotch was constantly exhausted and restless. Morgan and Garcia had stopped flirting. JJ and Elle couldn't smile anymore. Gideon had lost weight and was now down two clothing sizes. Reid's desk began to collect dust. Soon, as the team began to solve cases, their methods became strict, something boot camp would be proud of.

Four months, to the day, Hotch had a thought that made him jerk awake from his exhaustive dozing at his desk and nearly tumble into Gideon's office. "Gideon, why haven't we heard anything from Reid's mother? He's been missing for four months now; he sends her letters monthly she should be missing them by now."

Gideon looked up at Hotch over his glasses from the case file he was organizing. Pain took over his face as the words sunk in. "Have Garcia do a quick check to see if his mother has received anything from him."

The tall agent nodded and made his way to Garcia's now dull tech lab.

"Garcia can you see if Reid's mother has received anything in the past four months that would indicate where Reid would be?"

Garcia turned around in her chair to acknowledge Hotch and then shared a guilty look with Morgan before answering her boss's question. "Actually, I've been sending her letters, like the one's he would send her. I've tried my best to emulate his writing style and detail the cases like he would if he were here. She's already mentally unstable, she doesn't need the stress of knowing that her son is missing and could be killed any day. I've been keeping tabs on her as well and other than the letters from me, she doesn't get anything or visitors."

The small figment of hope that Hotch had was crushed just as quickly as it had appeared. He tried to be angry with the technical liaison and other member of his team for keeping their doings unknown to everyone else, but the logic behind it stopped that right away. The fact that Garcia had thought about that ahead of time and had acted on an opportunity that she saw actually gave him more of a sense of comfort than anything else. There was one less thing that he had to worry about.

"I'm sorry, sir, I should have told you."

Hotch sighed and drug his hand down his face. "Don't worry about it. You did fine." A forced smile played on his lips. "Keep me updated." With that he left the room to relay the news to Gideon.

Morgan and Garcia shared another look and went back to their monitoring of Katrina's and Reid's apartments.

Another month passed. Emotionally, the team was dead. The fact that one member could cause so much damage to the team astounded Hotch to no end. The fact that each time a case was brought before them in the conference room and no one sat in his seat-to the point where it needed to be dusted-settled in his mind as undeniable. The fact that nothing had come forward in five months nagged at his mind and drove him to the brink of insanity.

Memories flashed through his mind as he stared at Reid's empty chair in the conference room. Reid doing magic tricks in the bull pen. Reid giving a random fact to the team during a case on the jet. Reid sleeping on the couch in the jet with a blanket slipping off and his mismatched socks falling off. Reid reading a case file with his glasses slipping off his nose. Reid rolling his eyes as Morgan and Garcia flirting over the phone. Reid smiling. Reid _being _there.

"Sir?" Garcia's quivering voice cut through the dark haired agent's thoughts. "There's a phone call for you. Line one."

"Why do you have it?"

"He called me and asked to talk to you. I can't get a trace on it." Morgan stood just behind Garcia, looking nothing like his normal mocha skinned self.

The agent nodded and pressed the speaker button on the phone in the middle of the table. "This is Agent Hotchner."

"_Hello Aaron." _

"Who is this?"

"_Your communications liaison has referred to me many times by the demon barber of Fleet Street. Perhaps you know to whom she is referring." _

Hotch's mouth went dry. "Sweeny Todd."

"_Very good. I believe it's been quite some time since we've had contact. Many months in fact." _

"It's been a very long time. What do you want?"

"_Only this. I have two little pets that you want. My good Doctor and my little Rose. Sadly, I've become bored of their company. My Rose doesn't speak, and I'm afraid that the Doctor may have become too attached. In fact I believe they've both formed a bond that I cannot condone." _The three agents could hear Sweeny Todd shifting the phone. _"Say hello my little pets." _Muffled cries were heard.

"We know you have them. _What do you want_," Hotch bit out.

"_Ah ah, don't get too hasty, Agent Hotchner. It is common knowledge that I have both of them. It is common knowledge that I grow tired of their company. However, I only tire of having two people here. Combine this with the fact that they've become too close for their own good, well, one needs to go. But then, I can't very well have one running around telling everyone who I am and the like now can I? Therefore," _a gunshot echoed around the room, emanating from the speaker in the middle of the table. _"Do have a good day." _

The line went dead. Sweeny Todd's sadistic laughter hung in the air like a putrid stench. The three agents stared at the phone in horrific silence.

Aaron looked up at Derek and Penelope. His eyes were red with tears waiting to fall, his face full of lost hope and pure grief. Penelope was pulled into Derek's embrace as he let the tears flow freely.

One of them was dead.

Aaron Hotchner said nothing as he left the conference room.

. . .

Two hours later found him in front of Katrina's apartment building, a cold wind buffing against his face. He let the wind surround him, biting back the tears that he knew were going to eventually fall.

As the first one fell, he became aware of someone walking past him, whom he opted to ignore.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

The agent opened his eyes to look at the woman questioning him. She was of average height, with black hair and concerned eyes. She carried two brown grocery bags in either arm, her purse slung over one shoulder, keys in one hand.

"I'm fine," he said, but his voice told her otherwise.

"I know that's not true. What are you doing here? I don't remember seeing you."

"I'm Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Behavioral Analysis unit." He flipped open his badge.

"I take it you're not here just because of my call the other day."

"I beg your pardon?" his brows furrowed together in confusion.

"Why don't you come inside? I've got some coffee made and you look like you could use some." The woman turned around and led him to her apartment just below Katrina's. "My name's June. I called the police a few days ago to report suspicious activity. No one ever came down, so I've been a little worried lately that maybe my call went unnoticed. Unfortunately, I don't think they send FBI for community calls." June out her groceries away and pulled out two mugs. "Please, sit." She set the mugs on the table, one in front of Aaron, and then retrieved the still warm coffee pot. "Do you take sugar or cream?"

"No, thank you. What suspicious activity did you report?"

June sat across from the agent, holding her mug in her hands. "I just moved in a few months ago. After a few nights I was sitting on the little balcony with my husband and I thought I saw someone darkly dressed in the parking lot staring at us. When I tried to point it out to my husband, the person was gone and I just shook it off. But then the next week, I'd taken the trash out, and I saw them again. Only he wasn't watching _me_, he was watching the apartment above mine, with the caution tape. It's happened like that for the past few months. My husband tried talking to him last week, but he left as soon as we got out our flashlight. That's when I called the police. It had been bad enough just having him out there once a week, but when we saw the scars all over his face-"

"Scars?" Aaron nearly choked on his coffee.

"All over his face. It looked like he'd been attacked by a cat, or even a dog, maybe both."

He stood up then. "Would you mind coming with me to the station? Actually, no. Can you come with me to headquarters in Quantico? I'll take you there myself. Do you remember what he looked like? Would you be able to describe him to a sketch artist?"

"Yes I think so. Let me call my husband."

Aaron nodded and waited for her to slip on her coat and shoes before leading her to the SUV and asking Gideon to call in the sketch artist.


End file.
